wake up alone
by glitter cordite
Summary: Soaked in soul, he swims in my eyes by the bed. Pour myself over him, moon spilling in, and I wake up alone. fluff/oneshot


**disclaimer: **i don't own snk, sadly. but if I did, there would be a lot more sex.

**because: **i listen to too much Amy Winehouse while i write at dark o thirty in the morning. (also because Giselle is a totally fab beta.)

**also: **thank you all so, so much for the kind words on _walls, _i'm still completely overwhelmed by the response. it means so much to me that the fic was as well received as it was. (seriously, some of those guests had me in tears. you guys are way too kind!) lessthanthree~

* * *

"_Soaked in soul, he swims in my eyes by the bed_

_Pour myself over him, moon spilling in_

_And I wake up alone_"

Jean thought he loved her most in the mornings. When her inky hair fanned across his pillow and her face (usually so carefully fixed into a stony facade) was relaxed in sleep. He loved the way her breath fell even and calm, and how her soft skin smelled after sex. The way the early sun bled through the curtains to paint light strokes across their entwined forms made his head rush and his heart swell. (small hands would rest on his chest and occasionally flex as she slept, nose hidden in his neck.)

It broke his heart how often she had to wake up alone. Strictly speaking, relationships within squads were frowned upon. The chance of them going south and ruining dynamics were too high. (Not to mention the trauma of losing a loved one and a teammate was something that could break even the strongest of soldiers) So their tryst was a secret. (Sort of.)

Theirs was a love full of stolen kisses and glances across the training ground, watching her back as she fretted over Eren in the field. (Bloody Titan shifting bastard.) He didn't regret it in the least, until he had to leave. Leave her curled against the cold, slim frame still curled as if into his side. (lashes closed over sooty eyes, light floral scent clouding his head like mist on the rivers past Wall Maria.) He was jealous of the sun, for staying with her, and resentful of the light that woke him, hastening him out of her sleepy warmth and into the sharp, cold day.

Pulling away from the petite girl was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. (And he had to do it again and again) In sleep she was only his. No one else ever got to breathe in the moment but him. Just him, the soft sun and the sheets. No one else got to watch as she stretched the night away, lean muscles flexing and shifting under (softsoftsoft) skin, or hear how her usually supple voice ran slightly scratchy (a fact that made his chest swell with male pride). Only he got to enjoy the way she would run her fingers through his hair and kiss his temple in greeting. It was something sacred and ritualistic that only the two of them got to share.

Sighing, he let his chin rest on the crown of her head, and slowly trailed his hands down her arms, smiling as her soft scent wreathed around him. He could feel her strong heart pound in counter time to his own, life echoing back and forth as they lay together. It wouldn't be long before she awoke now, and they'd have to go back to pretending to be comrades, maybe-lovers and nothing more.

As if on cue, he noted a slight spike in heart rate and felt as grey eyes fluttered open, long lashes brushing at his sensitive skin. Soft lips pressed against his throat, and he smiled as they traveled up to trace the strong line of his jaw. (Slightly rough with stubble and scars from hasty shaving) Soon she reached his chin, and he felt his own heart speed as he tilted his head down to catch her lips.

"You stayed."

"I figured Eren could have the dorm to himself for once," another kiss, as Jean cradled her head and rolled them over gently. (Mikasa noted the way his biceps flexed as he suspended himself above her.)

"Plus I didn't want to pay witness to another one of his Titan killing wet dreams."

The girl laughed and brought a hand up to brush hair out of his eyes, fingers delicate and warm. (And so, so capable of killing.)

He smiled down at her, watching the light play across her face, highlighting the bridge of her nose in soft gold tones. She seemed almost untouchable in the morning light, a thing beyond his comprehension, too good to be true.

Their lips met again, soft and slow and lingering. Mikasa felt her heart rush as the kiss broke, and Jean's lips slowly worked down her throat, pausing against her pulse.

"I love you," he confessed, hot breath fanning out against pale skin. (goosebumps racing across the soft expanse in response.)

Swallowing past the lump in her throat, the young soldier grinned, and ran her hands across strong shoulders, retracing scratches from the night before.

"I love you too," she said softly. (and she did) She loved him like she loved flying, he was freedom and hope and the future all wrapped up in one.

She felt him smile against her skin, before his lips began to move again, kisses falling across her collarbones and sternum tenderly.

With a soft tug on messy hair, she brought his lips back to her own and arched her back as he slid an arm beneath her, cradling her slight frame against his own. They broke apart reluctantly (oxygenation be damned), Mikasa brazenly holding his lower lip between her even teeth. Jean raised his eyebrows and pressed himself into the cradle of her hips, earning a gasp and a released lip. Grinning slyly, the girl beneath him spoke,

"Well, we have today off, and Sasha _clearly_ didn't come back last night..."

He smirked, one eyebrow quirking up, "Dipshits need love too, Ackerman. What are you implying?"

Fingers tightened in his messy locks, and hips ground against his own.

"Only that we let the usual rest day crowd clear before we attempt to use the kitchen."

Jean couldn't help but grin as he lowered his lips to her own, sunlight warming his face and heat rushing through his veins. Tomorrow they'd have to return to the frontlines, skin soaked with blood instead of sun. But for now it was morning, and she was his.

(and at this rate, she'd be lucky if he let her out of bed before dinner.)


End file.
